All is quiet in the village of Knob's Hill.
In the creaky inn at the center of town, a certain team of accidental heroes slumber in blissful exhaustion.
Penelo drools softly into her pillow, ears twitching with contentment. Veena lay sprawled in a half-kick pose on her back, gently snoring with a small frown on her brow. Vuvi lay curled up like a cat, clutching a pillow and muttering blueprints in her sleep. Pip, ever the sentinel, sits cross-legged in the corner of the room, charging silently, his chassis humming like a warm hearth.
Behind the inn, the bushes rustle.
Two figures emerge, filthy and frazzled.
"Finally," Raenly Mystbern gasps, brushing cobwebs off his coat. "Three days. Three days in the woods. I'm half-delirious from fungal exposure and pondwater soup."
Mysa pads up behind him, cheeks puffed with exhaustion and delight.
"Worth it," she says dreamily, peeking over his shoulder. "You saw how that last one looked when she left Pip's arms? She floated."
